Percy Jackson vs Pompeii
by MonsterDonut394
Summary: What if Percy Jackson had been born in a different time period? What if his powers were found out by authoritative nobles? What if Pompeii was more than just a random act of nature?


Pompeii: The Unknown Story

I wake in the middle of the night, for seemingly no reason. This has been the fifth night in a row. Ever since battling in the Aegean, I have been restless. The centurion, Marcus, has been giving me searching glances, his eyes questioning my every motive. My position as tribune in Caesar's army is being threatened. I get up from my bed and go out into the garden, my footsteps soft on the stone floor. Marcus must have seen. I have tried so hard to hide my secret from prying eyes. My only consolation is my rank. He cannot challenge his superior. I pace back and forth, considering my next move. He must be eliminated. I hate to end the life of a man in his prime, but there is no choice. My secret must never be shared.

I acted too late. The soldiers came for me this morning. "Tribune. You are needed by the Consul." I go without complaint. The end is inevitable. As I walk through the streets of Pompeii, I breathe deeply, taking it all in. The sound of bartering merchants. The clanging of the blacksmith's hammer. The scent of fresh bread. These may be my last moments in this beautiful town, and they won't be wasted. The soldiers bring me to the central building of the town. As I enter, silence surrounds me. The Consul and his entire committee stare at me. I can't tell whether they are amazed or appalled. I stand in the center of the room, waiting for the verdict. "Perseus Jackson. You are charged with willfully withholding information from the Empire of Rome." "What information do you speak of? Surely there is nothing I know that can affect the future of Rome?" I say, with a degree of feigned innocence. "You are a son of a god." Shocked murmurs erupt throughout the room. "A son of Neptune." The room is now full of gossiping voices, wondering whether the charge could possibly be true. I stand firm, untouched by the uproar around me. "What proof do you have?" I yell above the noise. The room quiets, ears straining to hear the answer. "An eyewitness account," a sniveling voice replies with the air of a cat that has caught a mouse. I turn to the voice and find Marcus standing looking infuriatingly pleased with himself. He gives me a patronizing smile and turns to the committee. "My name is Marcus Vespius Gnaeus. Last week, my galley and others in my fleet defeated the Africans. This tribune was stationed on my ship. As we were fighting, I glimpsed something out of the corner of my eye. The water seemed to be grabbing random Africans and drowning them. I looked around, wondering what could possibly be happening. My eyes landed on Nereus. He was closing his eyes, a strange thing to be doing in the midst of a battle, and concentrating. Whenever his hands moved, Africans drowned. I told the Consul immediately upon our arrival home." By this time, the audience is deathly silent, stunned by the account. They turn as one to stare, horrified, at me. "Guards!" the Consul shouts with fear. "Arrest this man!" I rack my brain for any solution, any way out of the room. There is only one. I touch the floor with my hands, straining for strength. I feel the telltale rumble ripple through the ground. Neptune isn't called Earthshaker without good reason.

The room shakes and dust showers the inhabitants. The guards halt, terrified. However, nothing is overturned, and everything stays in its rightful place. I glance around, perplexed. The Consul gestures impatiently and the guards surround me and overcome me with a couple of well placed blows. They bind me and force me to kneel in the center of the room. The people in the room are now free to gawk at me, overwhelmed by my power. "What have you done?" the Consul yells over the constant rumble. "It didn't work," I mutter to myself. "Why didn't it work?" A guard backhands me, "Answer the Consul!" "I don't know!" I answer back. "You must believe me!" The Consul glances around at the committee. Now is his chance to show his power. He turns to me, the epitome of a man corrupted by his society, hardened so that the original man is inexistent. "Make it stop!" He yells. "I cannot!" He turns to his lackeys. "Force him to make it stop. Try by any means you know." My face pales and my heartbeat quickens as the guards drag me out of the room. My last glimpse is of Marcus, looking slightly sick to his stomach.

I am bound to the chair in an unknown room. About a dozen soldiers surround me, holding numerous tools of torture, glistening with blood. My blood. The ground has continued rumbling. "Please," I beg with a tremor in my voice. "No more." The centurion stares down at me, disgust evident in his face. "It will stop when the Earth stops rumbling. If you seek an end to your pain, look in the mirror. Make things right." "I told you," I say with a tired voice. "I must touch the ground for any control over the Earth." He stares in my eyes for a moment and motions for his men to untie me. I fall to the ground, devoid of strength. I lay my hand on the ground and concentrate. To my surprise, the rumbling stops. I sigh with relief. Suddenly, a giant boom echoes throughout the room. Screams are heard from outside. Each voice is a dagger to my heart. A boy runs in, his eyes terrified and his breathing labored. "Mt. Vesuvius…its spewing ash and smoke." The men in the room back away, petrified, and run as quickly as they can outside. I lie on the ground, unable to stand, and certainly unable to walk. I start crawling to the door, gradually picking up speed as the screams grow louder. The sight that greets me outside is beyond horrifying. The town is in an uproar, jostled from everyday life by a catastrophic event. The mountain in the background is alive. Ash and dust rain down, covering the sky and obliterating the sun. My strength fails me and I slump to the ground and stare up at the vanishing sky. My vision blurs and my breathing slows. Screams of terror and cries of panic are music, lulling me into an eternal sleep.


End file.
